


Unconditionally and Irrevocably

by Chandlure



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: BAMF Bella, Danger, F/M, Family, Healthy Relationships, Humor, Love, MACUSA | Magical Congress of the United States of America, Magically Homeschooled, Non-Magical School, Secrets, Vampires, Wands, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-10-04 09:57:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17302496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chandlure/pseuds/Chandlure
Summary: Of three things I was certain: 1. Edward was a vampire- a gifted one at that. 2. I was his singer- that complicated things immensely. 3. Despite being a witch, despite the danger dark creatures like Edward pose, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him. What is a witch to do? Thankfully, Charlie is non-magical or I would be unconditionally and irrevocably grounded!





	1. Chapter 1

_Unconditionally and Irrevocably_

* * *

**Preface  
**

* * *

I'd be lying if I said that I didn't give much thought on how I'd die- it is not as if America is a safe place after all. School shootings, drive-bys, murder, rape, people who follow Voldemort's philosophy- but I never thought my end would be like this.

I stared, with my breath caught in my throat and my wand clenched tightly in my sweaty hand, into the dark eyes of my captor as he smiled sadistically down at me. Everything I had learned about Vampires flew out of my head, my wand merely a useless stick at this point. Did _Protego_ work against Vampires? Doubtful, it didn't work well against Werewolves after all.

I guess, if I must die, this was as good of a way as any. Ignoring the excruciating pain of a Vampire bite, dying in the place of someone you love is as good a way to go as any. It's just, if I had to die, I wish it were without regrets, and there is one thing that I do regret. Just a small thing really. I regret not telling Edward the truth about me. I know he is a Vampire, _thank you, Defense Against the Dark Arts_ , but he does not know that I am a witch. None of the Cullen's do. MACUSA sorry, _Magical Congress of the United States of America_ , has stricter rules than the _British Ministry of Magic_ about revealing yourself, your magic, to others. Even if that other happens to be a dark creature.

I could say that if I never came back to Forks, if I had stayed with my mother, or if I had gone to Ilvermorny, I would not be facing death now. Perhaps, but, I can't bring myself to regret coming back. In Forks, I was able to practice magic safely in the comfort of my own home. In Forks, I was able to go to a non-magical school and make friends. In Forks, I was able to fall in love with Edward. When you are given a shot at happiness, no matter how brief it might be, it is not reasonable to regret the actions that brought you there.

My captor smiled and sauntered forward to kill me. My hand tightened around my wand and my eyes screwed shut.


	2. First Day

_Unconditionally and Irrevocably_

* * *

**First Day  
**

* * *

I leaned my head against the side of my mother's silver Honda. She was driving me to the airport with the windows wide open to invite in the Phoenix heat, and quiet calm music playing on the radio to relax our nerves. It was a mild day, seventy-five degrees and nary a cloud in the sky. I stared out the window, and allowed myself to soak in as much sun, heat and desert scenery as I could, I will not be able to enjoy it for much longer. I was wearing my favorite outfit: dark jeans and a sleeveless white eyelet lace shirt- it would be the last time I could wear it without a jacket. It was my farewell gesture to Phoenix. In my lap I held my raincoat, and loosely in my hand was my wand. I made little circles in the air with it, not paying attention as red sparkly circles began floating in the car around my knees.

I know I sound as if I am going to my death, I do not mean to sound so melodramatic. I just detest the place I will be spending the next 18 or so months of my life with my entire being. In the Olympic Peninsula in the Northwest of Washington, lay a teeny tiny town called Forks. Seriously tiny. A mere 3,285 people live there, well, 3,286 now. It is the opposite of Phoenix in every way, not only in population but in weather as well. Where Phoenix is warm, sunny and bright, Forks is damp, wet and almost always overcast- it also rained there more than anywhere else in the continental US, gross.

It was from this dreary place that my mother left, with me in tow, on her broomstick under the cover of clouds and the darkness of night to sunny Riverside, California more than fifteen years ago. Even then, I could not shake going to Forks. Every summer I spent a month there- until I was fourteen and I finally put my foot down and refused to go back, that is. For the past three years I have spent two weeks in California with my father, Charlie, trading gloom and chill for sunshine and heat. And yet, it was Forks, that dreary, damp, dark little town, that I now exiled myself to- an action that I am greatly regretting.

I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun, the heat, the vigorous, sprawling city. I loved having playful duels in the backyard with Renee, under the guise of practice- I wouldn't be able to do that anymore either.

"Bella!" I looked up in shock to see that I had burned a hole in my jeans.

" _Reparo_ ," I muttered, mending the hole.

_Good Afternoon, Passengers. This is a boarding announcement for flight 2235 to Seattle boarding at Terminal 2, Gate 10. All Economy Class passengers please make your way to the gate to begin boarding at this time. Have your boarding pass and identification ready for inspection. Final boarding call will begin in approximately 10 minutes. Thank you._

"Bella," my mother sighed while she stared out ahead of her towards the plane that would take me away from Phoenix, from her. "You don't have to do this, you can stay."

I felt panic well up in my chest as I looked into her wide, childlike eyes. How could I leave my mother, my loving, unpredictable, foolish mother, to her own devices? Sure, she had Phil, I suppose, so chances are the bills will be paid on time, food will be in the fridge, gas will be in her car, and someone will be available for her to call if she were to get lost- if she remembered how to use her phone.

I had packed away her magic books, cauldron, and potions and all the other magical paraphernalia lying about and placed a spell on them to hide them from Phil before placing them in the attic before he moved in- I hope she remembers not to use magic in front of him, she almost has a couple of times already. Did I remember to disenchant the sink? The mop and broom? Oh, god, the washing machine‽ This is a disaster waiting to happen. Maybe I should go ahead and take her wand while I was at it? I should probably just stay, it'll keep us from having a magical crisis on our hands.

My mother rolled her eyes, "the washing machine was never enchanted, Bella."

Shoot, did I say that all out loud? "I want to go," I blatantly lied, my fingers playing with the grip of my wand that was hidden in my pocket. I was a horrific liar, the worst ever, but I have been saying this lie so often, to her and myself, that I almost believed it- I almost sounded convincing. "It'll give me time to get to know Charlie better before I go off to college. You know, build that Father/Daughter bound, make it unbreakable."

"Tell him I said hi."

"Of course," was my practiced reply, somehow it sounded blander than I had wanted it to.

"Keep up with your magic lessons, and no-"

"telling the non-magical folks that I am a witch, Mom, I know." It's you I am worried about. Bad enough that Charlie knows, MACUSA would have a field day if you told Phil.

"I'll see you soon," she said firmly, insistently. "Call me if you have trouble with your potions or a spell. And remember, you can always come home whenever you want- I can hop right on a plane, or my broom and be right back here." I felt my heart squeeze at the hope her words gave me, but, as soon as I saw the sacrifice in her eyes, I squashed it.

_This is the final boarding call for flight 2235 to Seattle. Please proceed to Terminal 2, Gate 10 immediately. Checks are being completed and the captain will give the order for the doors to close in approximately 10 minutes. I repeat. This is the final boarding call for flight 2235 to Seattle. Please proceed to Terminal 2, Gate 10. Thank you._

"You don't need to worry about me," I said with fake cheerfulness. "It'll be great. I love you, Mom."

Her eyes roved over me one last time, before she reached over to smooth my shirt over my wand to keep it out of view and pull me into a tight hug. Slowly, I pulled away from her and got on the plane, and then, she was gone and so was the home I loved.

o0o

It is a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, then another hour on a small plane up to Port Angeles, and about an hour drive to Forks from there. The flying is easy, being stuck in a car for an hour with Charlie was harder.

Charlie was nice about the whole thing. He was genuinely pleased that I was coming to live with him with any degree of permanence for the first time, and without a fight at that. He already has me registered at school and was happily going to help me get a car.

However, no matter how happy he was, it was bound to be completely awkward between Charlie and me. It was no secret how much I hated Forks, and I am sure he is extremely confused by my change of heart. On top of that, neither of us are what you would call the 'talkative' type, and I don't know what I would say to him concerning my decision regardless.

When I finally landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I sighed and pulled on my raincoat, making sure my wand was securely in my inside pocket before pulling on my bookbag. I didn't see it as an omen- just a completely unavoidable occurrence. I already said my goodbyes to the sun.

After grabbing my bags from the luggage corral, I made my way out. As I walked out of the airport, I stopped dead when I caught view of Charlie. He was standing outside his police cruiser, legs crossed at the ankle and hands in his pockets. It was something I expected but hoped wouldn't be true. At least he didn't have on his uniform.

Charlie was the Police Chief of Forks. Unlike large cities, such as my beloved Phoenix, the Police Chief of Forks could use the car outside of work hours. It was also one of many reasons why I was vying for my own car despite my lack of funds. I absolutely refused to drive into town in a car with the biggest 'LOOK AT ME!' sign attached to the top. Being new in Forks was enough torture.

Charlie gave me an awkward, one armed hug, catching me as I tripped a couple feet in front of him. He chuckled, and steadied me, "it is good to see you, Bells." He gave me a quick once over, "you haven't changed much, I see. How's your mother?"

"Mom is doing fine. It is good to see you too, Dad." I plastered on a fake smile, I wasn't allowed to call him Charlie to his face.

"This all you have?" Charlie asked, indicating to the two bags in my hand. I nodded as I handed them over to him. Most of the clothes I wore in Arizona were too light for Washington. Renee and I pooled our resources to buy winter clothes, but it was still barely more than the essentials. It fit easily into the trunk of the cruiser.

"I found a car for you," he announced when we were comfortably situated in the car.

"What kind of car?" I asked, weary of his response.

"It's a truck, a Chevy."

I raised an eyebrow, "where did you find it?"

"Do you remember Billy and Jacob Black, from La Push?" La Push was an Indian Reservation on the coast.

I grinned, Jacob was one of my closest friends. We talk all the time online. Not that Charlie would know that. We talked about magic- spells and whatnot, and magic did not interest Charlie much. "I remember them."

"Billy is in a wheelchair now," at this I frowned, usually Jacob would have told me something like that. "He can't drive anymore, and he offered to sell us his truck."

Why wouldn't Jacob just take it? He is learning to drive. "What year is it?" I asked instead. I sighed, I could see from his expression he was hoping I wouldn't ask that.

"Well," after a moment of hesitation he continued, "Billy and Jacob have done a lot of work on the engine. So really, it is only a few years old."

I gave him an unimpressed look. I really hope that he thought more of me than to think I would let it go like that, "when did he buy it?"

Charlie considered his answer, "around 1984, I think."

Great, the thing is older than I am. "Did he buy it new?"

At Charlie's silence I rolled my eyes. It just keeps getting better and better. Well, at least if I get into a car accident I won't have to worry. "No, I think it was new in the early sixties, - late fifties the earliest." He admitted, quite sheepishly.

The damn thing is a Baby Boomer. "Char- _Dad_ , I know next to nothing about cars. I won't be able to fix it myself if it were to break down, and I can't afford a mechanic-" _Are cars considered electronics?_

"Bella, really, the thing runs great. They don't build them like that anymore."

"How cheap is it?" That was something I couldn't compromise on. Worst case, I can keep it until I save up for a newer one.

"Well, I already bought it for you, as a homecoming gift." Charlie peeked over at me, a hopeful expression on his face.

Wow, free. Well, I guess you can't beat that.

"You didn't need to do that, Dad. I was going to buy myself a car."

"I don't mind it. I want you to be happy here." He was staring ahead at the road when he said this. Charlie, like myself, was uncomfortable expressing his emotions verbally. It was one of the many personality traits I inherited from him. Which is why I, too, was staring forward as I answered him.

"That is great, Dad. I really appreciate it, thank you." And I did, probably one of the kindest things he ever did for me. No need to break the mood by telling him that I could never be happy here. And it would be foolish to reject a free truck, Baby Boomer or otherwise.

"You're welcome," he mumbled, cheeks coloring red from embarrassment.

Except for a few comments about the weather, which was wet, that was pretty much it for conversation. There isn't much to say, there never is.

I stared out the window, wiping away the fog and staring out through the stringy rivulets of raindrops. It was _beautiful_ , even I would be hard pressed to deny that. Everything was a lush green: the trees, with their trunks covered in a thick layer of moss, their branches hanging low making a canopy of green, even on the ground you could barely see dirt, it was all covered in plants. .

Eventually, after what seemed like forever, we made it to Charlie's. He still lived in the two-bedroom that he and Renee got in the early stages of their marriage. Not that there was anything but early stages. My eyes caught sight of something new, that broke the monogamy of the never changing scenery that was my father's home. My new- to me- truck. It was a faded red color, more of an orange at this point. It had big, rounded fenders and a huge bulbous cab. I- I loved it. I pursed my lips, I am not sure that it would run, but I could see myself in it. My theory was right. It was a truck made of solid iron that never got damaged- the same type you could see in an accident with no dents or scratches while the other car was smashed to smithereens.

I grinned at him, honestly grinned, "Wow, Dad, I love it! Thanks!" What had seemed to be a dreadful day, became much less so. I didn't have to walk two miles in the rain, or, drive in a police cruiser.

"I'm glad you like it," he said gruffly. He popped the trunk and left the car. Moment over then.

It only took us one trip to get everything upstairs to my room. I got the bedroom that faced the front yard. It was familiar to me as it has been my room since birth. The floor was a dark mahogany wood, the walls a pale blue, the curtains a cheery yellow- everything which has been part of my childhood remains in this room.

In fact, the only major changes Charlie made were switching the white crib for a bed and adding in a desk for me as I got older. There were only a few additions since the last time I was here. An old second-hand computer, and a phone line for the modem, which was stapled against the wall. It was at the demand of my mother, so that we could keep in touch easily. Owls tended to put Charlie off, and in a small town like this, it wouldn't take long for people to notice them coming in and out of the house, at any rate. The rocking chair from when I was a baby still sat innocently in the corner.

There was a small bathroom beside my room, which I would share with Charlie. I tried not to think about that too much.

I must admit that one of the best things about Charlie was his ability to not hover. He left me at the bottom of the stairs to my own devices- something that my mother would never be able to do. I pulled off my raincoat and placed it behind my chair, pulling out my wand as I did so. I looked around my room, twirling it between my fingers.

At the corner by my window, I transfigured one of my old nightstands into a large white mirror. Behind my desk, I put a large cork board up. With a flick of my wand, the pictures of my friends, of me and of Renee, flew up from out of my bookbag and pinned themselves to the board. They were non-moving pictures, of course. I would have to hang the paper lanterns and fairy lights by hand. Magic and electricity do not mix well after all.

I opened my closet door and kneeled, " _Revelio_." The floorboards disappeared, revealing an empty space beneath. "Accio," my bookbag flew from the bed and landed neatly beside me. I placed my wand beside me and reached into my bag. Slowly I extracted my magical school books _Quintessence: A Quest, Standard Book of Spells- Grade 6, Confronting the Faceless, Non-Verbal Spells Volume 3, Dark Creatures and How to Spot Them_ , and placed them into the floorboards. Next went my cauldron and potion tools, then my notebooks. I am homeschooled in Magic but go to Non-Magical school. That was a stipulation of Charlie's, when Renee stated that she wanted me to grow up around magic. " _Celare_ ," I muttered, concealing the books from view.

I would start up practicing again this weekend, tonight, I just wanted to relax and be alone. It was relieving not having to deal with anyone right now. It gave me time to unpack, stare forlornly out the window and cry, just a little bit. I wouldn't go into a full-on crying session, not yet, that would be for later tonight, if I had the energy.

I flicked my wand, sending my clothes flying into the correct draws. The great thing about being homeschooled is that I can use my wand within certain areas without supervision. Those areas being my home in Phoenix, Charlie's house and on the La Push Reservation, where nine times out of ten, someone there had magical powers. It is one of the only places in the United States where witches and wizards can freely use magic in the non-magical world without worry- La Push is considered Switzerland, neutral. I could use my wand in other places outside of those if I had someone with me to supervise and there were no non-magical people about. Not that, that will stop me from carrying my wand and using it if I really needed to.

I fell face first into my bed and pushed my face into my pillow. Tomorrow was going to be horrible. I hugged my pillow and looked out the window. It _finally_ stopped raining and I could see the darkening cloudy sky through the drenched windowpane.

Forks High School, the place where I would finish off my tenure as a high school student, was home to three hundred and fifty-seven- sorry, fifty-eight, students. That was ridiculously small. My junior class alone had twice that much back in Phoenix. Every single person here grew up together- heck, their grandparents were all in diapers together.

I was the new girl from the big city- an oddity, a curiosity.

I think, if I actually looked like someone from Phoenix it might go over better, you know, tan and sporty- maybe a volleyball or soccer player- things would make sense for someone living in one of the sunniest places in the United States.

I had to be as far from that was possible. I was very light-skinned, ivory in tone, and had dark hair and even darker eyes. Even spending all my time in the sun did nothing to darken my skin or bleach my hair. I was thin, so I had that going for me, but not toned. I was rather soft around the edges- it is obvious upon first look that I am not athletic. Not that it mattered, I did not have the necessary hand-eye coordination to play sports without humiliating and/or injuring myself and others. I was lucky I could cast spells without taking out an eye.

I blew my hair out of my face and sat up. I might as well take a shower and wash the airplane dirt off. I stood up, grabbed my bathroom essentials and went to the bathroom to clean myself up. I squinted, looking at my face through the steam covering the mirror as I brushed through my impossibly tangled wet hair. I was almost tempted to just put my wet strands up in a bun, but that that would lead to more trouble that it was worth. It was probably the fluorescent lighting, but I looked almost sickly.

I scrutinized myself more. My skin had the potential to be pretty, as it looked almost like glass, clear and translucent- but there was no color to it. Skin needs some type of color to look pretty and I had no trace of color.

I tutted, forcing myself to admit that I was lying. My physical looks would have nothing to do with me not fitting in. Truth is, I was worried. If I was unable to find friends in a school where three thousand or so people go, how on earth was I to find a group in a school of 385? I wish I was able to go to the Quileute Tribal School with Jacob, at least then I would know someone, even if he was a year or two younger than myself.

This fear was one of the reasons I didn't go to Ilvermorny- because I would have, even against Charlie's wishes. I could handle not finding a niche of my own, but not being able to talk to someone at the end of the day, be it my mother or even Jacob- it would drive me insane. I didn't relate well to people- it was far worse than merely not relating to those my own age. Even my mother, whom I loved with all my heart, someone who was practically my best friend, I never fully related to. It made me often wonder if I was experiencing the same thing everyone else was, it certainly didn't feel that way. Maybe I was broken somehow- maybe the magic and non-magical part of me are fighting so hard that there wasn't any energy to expend into other things. Who knew- the why didn't matter, what it caused did. For better or for worse, we will find out what my awkwardness would cause tomorrow.

o0o

I didn't sleep well. It was cold, and the rain and wind continuously slamming against the window did nothing to soothe me. I had pulled my thick quilt over my head in hopes that it would muffle the sound, and later my pillow, but nothing worked. It wasn't until the rain settled into a quiet drizzle, and my sobs quieted to silent hiccups, that I was able to fall asleep. It had been well past midnight at that point.

I woke up to thick fog rolling past the window, obscuring everything beyond the windowpane. I shuddered, you could never see the sky here, it was like a cage. A wet, gloomy, dreary cage that held no escape.

Thankfully, breakfast was a quiet affair. Charlie wished me luck at school, and I thanked him, but knew it was a wasted effort. Good luck avoided me like the plague. Charlie left soon after I came down for food, he was off to the police station that had become his wife and family when mom and I left. When he left, I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for the time before school to gather my thoughts.

I sat at our old, worn square oak table in one of three unmatching chairs. I examined the kitchen, everything exactly as I remember it being. The walls were dark paneled, the cabinets were painted a bright yellow and the floor was white. Everything looked dingier than I remembered, duller, but the remaints of what was were still there. My mother had painted the cabinets when they moved in in the hopes that it would brighten up the house.

I looked over at the small family room to the fireplace that resided there. It was covered in a row of pictures. The first, on the far left, was a picture of Charlie and my mom on their Wedding Day- Las Vegas, classy right? Next to that was a picture of us in the hospital on the day I was born and finishing off the row were 12 years of school pictures, from Pre-K to 10th grade, each one more cringeworthy than the last, until my final one that was taken last year. We have not gotten this year's photo yet, but it was only a matter of time before that one joined the lineup. The pictures were so embarrassing to look at, now that I am here, now that Charlie has the real thing in his house, maybe I can convince him to put them in a place less conspicuous- at least until I moved out again.

Honestly, this entire house made me uncomfortable. It was impossible not to see that Charlie never got over my mother. It filled the house like a dementor, penetrating the very foundation it lay on.

I looked at my phone, _7:36_ , glared back at me on the small screen. I didn't want to get to school too early, but I couldn't stay here any longer I pulled on my coat, threw on my bookbag and headed out into the rain.

It was still only drizzling, not enough to soak through my jeans as soon as I walked out of the house. I reached under the eaves for the key and locked the door, pushing it to make sure it was locked before moving towards my car. The squelching sound of mud against my new rainboots made me shiver- it was an unpleasant sound. How I missed the sound of gravel beneath my feet. I didn't stop to consider my truck, even though I wanted to, it was awesome; I was in a hurry to get out of the misty wetness that hung around my head and clung to my hair, even under my hood.

I sighed in relief as the door slammed shut behind me. It was nice and dry, and looked even bigger on the inside than it did when you were outside. It was obvious that Charlie had leaned it up, but the tan seats still held the faint smell of tobacco, gasoline and peppermint. To my surprise, the engine started up quickly, but it was also very loud, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Well, at least it worked. The truck was so old there had to be something wrong with it. If that was the worst of my problems, I am doing pretty good. The radio even worked.

The school was easy to find, even though I had never seen the building before. It was just off the highway, like most things in Forks were. I almost drove right past it, to be perfectly frank, but the sign reading 'Forks High School' made me pause. It certainly did not look like a school- not the ones that I have ever attended at any rate. It was smaller and looked to be made of a collection of small matching houses, all with maroon colored bricks, rather than one or two large impending buildings. And where was the chain-linked fence to keep us locked in? Did they even have metal detectors?

I parked in the parking spot adjacent to the first building which had a small sign reading 'Front Office' above the door. No one else was parked here, so it was probably not allowed, but I decided to go get directions to the proper parking spots instead of driving around like a fool in the rain until others showed up.

I shut off the car, very unwillingly left the toasty cab and walked down the cobblestone path that lined the dark green overgrown hedges. I paused at the door, hand on the knob, and took a deep breath before opening it.

Inside very brightly lit, cheerful and a lot warmer than I had hoped. The office was small but was big enough to hold a waiting area. The waiting area had orange folding chairs, an orange and beige carpet, and notices, flyers and educational posters that littered the walls to an unprecedented degree. Right smack in the back, between two windows was a very large ticking clock, I am unsure how the workers keep from going crazy with the loud ticking that it makes. As if there was not enough green outside, plants grew in every uncovered inch of space in pots both large and small.

Between the windows and I was a large oak counter, cluttered with black plastic baskets filled to the brim with paper and brightly colored labels taped to their front. Only three chairs resided behind the counter, the closest of which held a large, red haired woman with glasses. She wore a bright purple t-shirt which, considering her position in the school, made me feel overdressed.

I stood awkwardly, waiting for her to look up from her dinosaur of a computer. Finally, after what seemed like a decade, she looked up, "may I help you?"

"I am Isabella Swan," I said, and almost winced at the immediate awareness that lit up her features. She had been expecting me, perhaps more so because I was a topic of gossip rather than being notified that I was starting today. I was the Daughter of the Chief's flighty wife, after all. Many didn't know of me, and those who did, would have never guessed that I would be here. Yet, here I am, home at last.

"Isabella, of course.," she said. She stood and walked over to the corner of the room where a filing cabinet stood. She flicked through the files in it until she found the one that she wanted. "I have your schedule and a map of the school right here." She closed the cabinet with her hip and brought the papers over to me.

She kindly went through my classes with me and highlighted the best route to take to each one, and then gave me a slip for my teachers to sign, which I needed to bring back at the end of the day. She smiled warmly and hoped, like Charlie, that I would like it here in Forks. I tried to be as convincing as I could be, but it fell flat.

By the time I left the building, other students were starting to arrive. Slowly, I drove around the school, happy that I could now follow the line of traffic to the student parking area. Most of the cars were older, more modest brands- none flashy. Back in Phoenix, I lived in one of the few low-income areas in the Paradise Valley district, so Mercedes and Porsches were the norm. Here, the nicest car was a Volvo, and even that stood out like a sore thumb. Still, my car was undoubtedly the loudest, so I cut the engine as soon I was in a spot so that the thunderous volume of my engine wouldn't draw attention.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and lean back against my seat, studying the map in my lap. I hoped to memorize it before classes started so that I wouldn't be _that_ person. You know the one- stuck with their head in a map, awkwardly knocking into people and getting lost trying to find their classroom for the first time. I stuffed the map in my bag and took a deep breath. I could do this, no one was going to hurt me. The worst will be a few stares, a few awkward conversations, oh god- the class introductions- but no one will bite me at least. What are the chances of a dark creature hiding among the student body of a high school anyway?

I patted my waist, and pulled my wand from my pocket, putting it into my bookbag. The safer option, of course, would either be to leave it at home- or at least the car- but having it close by grounded me. It was also like witch rule 101 to never leave your wand unattended, it was apart of you after all.

I zipped up my bag and stepped out of the truck and exhaled. Here we go.

I pulled my hood over my head and integrated myself quickly into the crowd walking towards the school. I sighed in relief when no one seemed to notice me.

Building 3 was easy to spot once I got past the cafeteria- no one could miss the huge black three on the right corner. I took a deep breath to calm my pounding heart as I approached the door. Slowly, I followed behind two fellow students as they rushed in from the rain.

My classroom was just to the left of the entrance. It was small, about half the size of the ones in Phoenix. I waited at the door behind the other people chatting and putting their coats on hooks to the left. Once they went to their seats, I copied them. In my line of sight, I could see two girls gossiping just a few feet away. One pale, with light blonde hair, the other pale as well, but with light brown hair and dark blonde highlights. Well, if nothing else at least my paler than pale skin wouldn't stick out.

I walked over to a tall balding man, whom I assume is the teacher. "Mr. Mason?" I asked, cocking my head to the side.

"Yes?" He looked up from the papers he was reading, eyeing me curiously.

"I am Isabella Swan, I start today."

He gawked at me- never a good sign- causing me to flush bright red. However, he recovered quite quickly, "You can go sit in the empty seat in the back, Isabella." He handed me the class syllabus and I was on my way.

I loved back seats. They made it much harder for my classmates to stare at me, but of course, somehow, they still managed. I laid my cheek on my fist and kept my eyes on this semester reading list. It was nothing that I hadn't already read before: Bronte, Chaucer, Faulkner- it was comforting, and boring, but at least I will have an easy English semester. Maybe I can recycle some of my old essays, I don't know if Renee would send them- it might count as cheating. I stealthy texted my mother to ask her.

Eventually, the bell rang, a high-pitched squeal of a thing, and this gave the boy next to me an opportunity to lean over and try to talk to me. He was tall, gangly, with bad skin and hair as black as an oil slick- as oily as one too.

"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" He seemed the overly helpful, chess club type.

"Bella," I corrected automatically.

Everyone within a three-foot radius turned my way. "Where is your next class?"

"Government," I said, while reaching into my bag for the map. "Building six." I tried to keep from making eye contact, but, there was nowhere to look without meeting the curious eyes of my classmates.

"I'm headed over to building four for art, I could show you the way…" I groaned inwardly, definitely over helpful- God, help me, "I'm Eric," he added.

I smiled tentatively, "thanks."

We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had started pouring down in sheets in front of us. The hair at the back of my neck prickled, and I could feel several people following close enough behind us to eavesdrop. I hope I wasn't getting paranoid, that was the last thing I needed to deal with.

"Quite different from Phoenix, isn't it?" he asked politely.

"Very," was my dry reply.

"Doesn't rain there much, does it?"

I shrugged and hitched my bookbag higher up my shoulder, "three or four times a year, at most."

"Wow, what must that be like?" he wondered, looking up into the rain to the cloudy sky as if he couldn't imagine it.

"Sunny," I supplied.

He chuckled and gave me a once over, "you aren't very tan."

I shook my head, "I wouldn't be. Mom is part albino."

He eyes widened and he stared at me with apprehension causing me to draw a heavy sigh. Looks like Forks isn't the only things the clouds dampen, sense of humor must be another. Gosh, a few more months and I will probably forget how to use sarcasm all together.

Not another word was said as we walked around the cafeteria towards the gym where the South buildings resided. He walked me to the door, despite the fact that there was a sign that clearly labeled it. "Good luck," he said as I reached for the handle. "Maybe we will have some other classes together." He sounded hopeful.

I smiled vaguely and went inside.

The rest of the morning passed similarly. The only exception was Trigonometry where Mr. Varner, who I hated already on the principle of him teaching Trig, made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I stammered, and blushed, and tripped over myself getting over to my seat. It was a miracle that I didn't do any accidental magic.

That is an issue of mine that I am still working on. Despite being an almost completely mature witch, I still did accidental magic when I became anxious, or sad, or angry.

The last time I did accidental magic was during my math exam last year. I caused the room to shake and everything on the desks to fall on the floor. Lucky, it was just thought to be a minor earthquake and we got straight back to work.

It took a little bit, but after a couple of classes I was able to recognize several of the people in each class. There was always someone who was brave enough to approach me and ask me how I was fairing in Forks. I tried to be diplomatic, really, I did. I told them that I was happy to be spending more time with Charlie, that the rain was something I would need to get used to, and that everyone I have met so far is very helpful- they seemed pleased with my assessment of their town, so I left my true thoughts to myself. At least I didn't need to map to find my classes.

There was one girl who sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she was kind enough to walk me to the cafeteria. She was tiny, several inches shorter than my five feet four inches, but her wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of the difference in our heights. I couldn't remember her name- another thing I sometimes had trouble with, so I smiled and nodded as she talked about teachers and classes. There was just no way I could keep up with it all.

We sat at the end of a full table that held several of her friends, all of whom she introduced me to. Names that I forgot the second they were spoken, although I was reminded that the girl who walked me here was named Jessica. While they talked about the upcoming possible snow we should be getting in the next week, I took a chance to look around the room where I would be getting my meals five days a week for the next few months. That is when I saw them.

It wasn't a direct look, not at first. I merely saw them out of the corner of my eye. "They" because that is all they could really be called collectively, being simultaneously completely unalike and similar, sat at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria, three boys and two girls. The biggest boy was huge, a wall of muscle with curly black hair and dimples. He was the sort you saw in weightlifting magazines- maybe that was how he planned to pay for college or had already paid for it. He does look as if he should have been out of high school for a couple of years already, maybe he got left back a few times? What age do you have to be to be kicked out of high school for being too old?

His features contrasted sharply with his blonde-haired neighbor. The boy beside him was lean, muscular, almost lion-like in appearance. The last boy at the table was lanky, with a runners build and untidy hair that was bronze in the light, but would be reddish-brown in the shadows. He seemed to be the only one of the boys that belonged in high school, the others could easily pass for young teachers here.

The two girls were complete opposites of each other. The blonde one reminded me of those Greek statues of Aphrodite at the museum back home. Someone who you would see on the runway, or Hollywood, Paris perhaps- places where being thin and pretty was a job requisite. The other girl was somehow smaller than Jessica, with short jet-black hair that stood up every which way. She looked like a fairy, or a pixie.

That is where their differences ended. They were all paler than me, like smooth marble- and all the same shade of pale. And all of their faces somehow looked the same. It was like looking at manga where the artist only drew characters that looked alike. Upon looking at them, there were obvious differences in looks, but it took a bit. And, it had nothing to do with the fact that they had familial features that made them look alike, they didn't. It was more the fact that they were so gorgeous, your mind short circuited. The flawlessness of their features made it hard to see any individuality that they have. For instance, the small black-haired girl had very sharp features, and there were faint scars on the blonde boy that you could barely make out unless it was under the right type of light. Another thing, upon studying them, I could tell that they all had dark circles under their eyes, as if they had pulled an all-nighter and were extremely tired.

The feeling I got when looking at them brought me back to when I was young. My mother would take me to the store, and during that time she was still teaching me the concept of looking and not touching. She would tell me 'Bella, do we touch the pretty?' and I would respond, 'no, Mommy. We don't touch the pretty.' I bring this up because I feel like this is the same situation, fourteen years later. I look at them and think ' _pretty_!' and can't look away. I am not creepy enough to want to _touch them_ , but the race of excitement in my chest is still there.

I was still staring like the creep I was. I was having a hard time choosing just who was the most beautiful of the lot, was it the blonde, or the boy with bronze colored hair? I was broken from my reverie when the pixie stood, and gracefully moved towards the trash where she threw away her unopened soda, and equally untouched apple. She then left the cafeteria. My eyes flicked over to the table when she left and noticed that none of them had touched their food.

"So, who are they?" I found myself asking.

Jessica looked over her shoulder to where I was looking. The youngest boy made eye contact with her before training his eyes on me. My heart clenched, and then suddenly, the lightbulbs above the achingly beautiful students exploded, showering them with glass. _Shit_. I slapped my hand over my mouth to hide my shock. The four left at the table jumped up from their seats and brushed themselves off, allowing the broken pieces of glass in their hair and clothes to fall to the floor.

I stood and grabbed some napkins, making my way over to them. I stopped, uncertainly, a few feet away. My face was burning before I trained my eyes on them. "A-are you guys alright, are any of you hurt?"

The four of them looked at me in shock, causing me to blush even deeper. When I noticed the beautiful girl was still brushing herself off I quickly handed her the napkins. "Here, you don't want to cut yourself on the glass." I raised my eyes up to the light fixtures that blew out, "especially if they are old, you can get an infection."

The tall black-haired boy chuckled and shook his head, grabbing some of the napkins from the girl and handing them out to the other two. "Thank you," he said with a large grin.

I nodded and looked each of them over quickly. They seemed okay, if not slightly annoyed at what happened. I looked to the left to see the bronze haired boy glaring at me, his eyes as dark as charcoal. My blood ran cold, and I looked away quickly willing my magic to behave itself. "I am glad you are okay." I waved and turned back towards my table and sat in my seat.

"So, you were saying?" I asked Jessica, slightly out of breath.

She looked at me bemused, before nodding towards them. "The boy staring at you, that is Edward Cullen. The tall black-haired boy is Emmett Cullen and the small girl who left, that is Alice Cullen. They are siblings. The two blondes, they are Jasper and Rosalie Hale- are twins. They all live together with Doctor Cullen and his wife- I think her name is Esme."

I glanced back at them, they moved to the empty table beside where they had been. The girl had gone and was talking to the kitchen staff- I assume to get them to contact a janitor. The boy- Edward, was looking down at his plate, pulling apart a bagel with his long pale fingers. I could see his mouth moving very quickly, almost as if he were muttering to himself. However, the two other boys at the table, while they weren't looking for him, seemed to nod as if they could hear what he was saying.

"So Edward and the two black haired ones are siblings, you said?" I asked, pursing my lips. "They look nothing alike."

"They aren't," she informed me. "Doctor Cullen is really young, he looks to be in his mid-twenties, but Dad said he claimed to be thirty-three. They are adopted. The Hales are twins, supposedly the nephew and niece of the wife." She leaned closer to me, and whispered in my ear. "And they are all _together_ \- well, Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice are."

"Adopted, how old are they?" I asked incredulously, running a hand through my hair.

"Jasper and Rosalie are eighteen," she responded, "but they have been with the Cullens about 10 years now."

I fought a smile, "that is so kind of Doctor and Mrs. Cullen to take in all of them like that. Especially being that they are so young themselves."

Jessica snorted, causing me to raise an eyebrow at her, "I guess." she sounded like she disapproved. "Truth be told, I think it was because Mrs. Cullen is unable to have children."

"Well, adoption is a viable option," I said diplomatically. I leaned my chin in my hand, and watched them from the corner of my eye. They all had strange first names, very old in style. Ones that your grandparents had, but I think that was normal in small towns. I was born here and named Isabella, afterall. I looked over at Jessica and the girl sitting on her other side, Lauren was it? Those weren't particularly old fashioned. In fact, my neighbor was named Jessica back home, and I knew at least three Laurens back at my old high school.

"Have they always lived in Forks?" I wracked my brain, trying to remember back to when I was here in the summer. I surely would have remembered them, but my memories came up empty. Still though, I expect her to say _yes, of course_ , because no one ever moves here or leaves.

"No," was her reply, sounding as if that should have been obvious even to a newcomer like me.

"Hmm," was my reply. In a city where hundreds of thousands of people resided, living there for two years meant that you were no longer a newcomer. However, in a place like Forks, tiny and tight knitted as could be, you would still be. That meant that I wasn't alone. There were others here that knew what it was like. Watching them brought up a surge of pity along with the relief. I pitied them because, while they were beautiful, they were outsiders, clearly not fitting into Forks as easily as one would have hoped. I was relieved, other than the obvious reason, because it meant that not only was I not the only newcomer, it also meant that I would not bear all scruitany that came with being Forks' new girl.

It was worrying though, wasn't it? There they sat alone, and here was Jessica who was a normal high school student and she hated them- why? Unsure, but that possibly did not bode well for me. Perhaps Forks was so tight knitted, there was no space for me to slip in. Then again, perhaps it was of their own free will that they were alone. I did seem to be having an easy time making friends, and everyone was so painfully friendly.

I allowed myself to study the youngest, but frowned when he once again met my gaze. I couldn't decide what the expression on his face meant. Was he expectant, frustrated, curious? It was obvious that he was trying to puzzle something out, was waiting for something to happen. "You said the boy with the reddish brown hair was Edward, right?" I pulled my eyes away from him and looked to Jessica, waiting for her to respond.

"Edward," she nodded. "He is _gorgeous_ , of course," she continued, her gaze falling to their table, "but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently, none of the girls are good looking enough here for him." She sniffed a bit, and it took all my strength not to roll my eyes. I wondered vaguely when he had turned her down. I could see her throwing herself at him, and he giving her some genteel but firm rejection- he looked the kind to not be mean about it.

The thought was an amusing one, and I had to bite my lip to hide my smile. I allowed my gaze to fall on Edward again in that moment. He was no longer looking my way, but he seemed as if he were also fighting back a smile. After a few minutes the rest of the Cullens/Hales left the table. Even the big burly one was somehow more graceful and coordinated in his movements than I ever could be.

I stayed at the table with Jessica and the others for a bit longer, risking being late to class. It was my first day and I loathed being late, but I was rewarded with an escort to Biology II. Her name is Angela, as she so sweetly reminded me on the way to class. The rest of the way was met with silence. It seemed that she was a bit shy too.

I looked inside and sighed. The room was filled two person black topped lab tables, exactly like the ones I am used to. I frowned a bit when I saw that Angela already had a partner. In fact, every single table was filled except one. When I saw who was sitting there my heart sped up. Gosh, please don't blow anything else up today! Once is enough. Sitting at the same table where I was to stay the next semester was none other than Edward Cullen.

I walked over to introduce myself to the teacher, and get my slip signed while watching him surreptitiously. Mr. Banner signed my slip and handed it back to me with a book. I could tell we would get along, he didn't force me to do any needless introductions. Of course, he sent me to sit next to Edward. When I looked to see where he was pointing, I nodded and slowly made my way towards the seat. I tripped over a book in the aisle and caught myself on the table edge, cursing slightly. When I looked up, Edward was staring at me with the oddest expression on his face- it was both hostile and furious. I looked away quickly, and willed my magic down from where I felt it sparking at my fingertips. His eyes had been black- coal black.

I straightened myself and placed my book on the table. I kept my eyes down as I pulled out my pencil case and placed my bag at the foot of the desk. I frowned a bit, completely bewildered at the stare the boy was giving to me. My frown deepened further when I sat down and he started to lean away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and covering his face as if he smelt something terrible. As inconspicuous as possible, I sniffed my hair. It smelt just like my favorite shampoo- strawberries. Maybe he was allergic to fake strawberry scent? I shrugged and threw my hair over my shoulder, watching as he stiffened again. I sighed, and reached around to tie my hair up so that it wouldn't fly around. He probably is allergic if he is acting like that. Perhaps I should get a different fragrance of shampoo at the convenience store tonight? I wouldn't want him to get sick because of me. "I'm sorry," I muttered to him, probably too low for him to hear before I turned and looked at the notes for today. It wasn't my fault, of course, but I still felt bad.

Great. Cellular anatomy, something I already studied. I still took careful notes, making sure that my eyes were always on my paper or the board, and I kept as far from him as possible, my leg pressed up against the side of the desk. I leaned on my elbow closest to the outermost part of the tabletop, and silently hoped I wouldn't cause myself to fall because of the position I was holding.

To be truthful, occasionally I couldn't stop myself from peeking at him from my peripheral. He never relaxed his position on the edge of his chair for the entire class. The hand on his leg was clenched tightly into a fist, tendons standing out against his pale skin. He had on a white shirt, and pulled up the long sleeves to his elbows. I could see that his forearm was hard and muscular. He was not nearly as small as he looked next to his big brother.

I looked at the clock, scrunching up my nose. This class seemed to drag on forever. I don't know if it has anything to do with it being the end of the day, or because I was waiting for him to finally loosen his fists. It never did, by the way, loosen I mean. He continued to sit in that position, looking as if he wasn't breathing. I rolled my eyes towards the ceiling- what was wrong? Does this constitute as normal behavior for him? I was starting to question my admittedly rash judgement on Jessica's bitterness at lunch. Maybe there was something to it after all.

I took a deep breath and moved my body back and forth in my seat to stretch. Whatever his problem was, it couldn't have anything to do with me. He didn't know me from, well, anyone really.

I sighed and looked over at him, regretting it instantly. He was glaring at me again, his eyes black and full of revulsion. I moved to my previous position- the furthest possible spot from him, and glared back. I held back from childishly sticking my tongue out at him.

At that moment, the shrill bell rang across the classroom. "Finally," I muttered to myself, slamming book shut, as Edward Cullen rose from his seat. _He's tall_ , I noted vaguely, watching as he flew out of the room before anyone else had left their seats.

I breathed heavily through my nose, and stood up, kicking the chair beneath the lab table. I closed my eyes and pushed down my anger when the telltale signs of tears began to fill my eyes. I was NOT going to cry over Edward Cullen of all people. He was mean, true. Rude, absolutely. But that had nothing to do with me.

"You're Isabella Swan," a male voice stated from behind me.

 _Thank you, I was worried that I'd forgotten my name_. I bit back the acid remark and put on a smile that I thought might look friendly. The boy standing just slightly behind me was a cute, baby faced boy with pale blonde hair gelled into spikes. He was smiling, and obviously thought that there was nothing wrong with me.

"Bella," I corrected him.

"I'm Mike," he introduced himself. "Would you like some help finding your next class?"

I glanced down at my schedule, "I have gym next. I think I remember where that is."

His smile widened, "that's my next class too!"

Great. I don't understand why he sounds so thrilled, it could hardly be too much of a coincidence with a school this miniscule. I don't mean to sound so mean to Mike, I am sure he is a great guy who doesn't deserve my anger just because Edward Cullen is a rude idiot. That was hardly his fault.

So we walked to class together. Unlike Angela, he was a big talker. It was nice because I only had to answer very rarely to keep the conversation going. He had lived in California until he was ten years old, so he understood my admiration of the sun. It turned out that he also had English class with me. Ignoring my initial annoyance of him, he was the nicest person I met today. That was of course until, "Did you stab Cullen with a pencil or something? I've never seen him act like that before."

I huffed and rolled my eyes at the ceiling, awesome, so asshole wasn't his go to response to people. I decided to play dumb, "Cullen?"

"The boy you sat next to in Biology. He looked like he was in pain or something."

I shrugged my shoulders, "I did nothing to him, never even spoke a word. I just figured he was a jerk to everyone- or had anger issues."

There was a snort behind me and Mike causing us to turn. Edward's sister, the small girl with short black hair, _Alice_ , my mind supplied, was walking behind us into the gym. She was looking at the phone in her hands making no indication that she had heard us, but was biting her lip to contain a smile.

"He is a bit weird," Mike said in a quieter voice to keep Alice from hearing us. He gave a pointed look at the small pixie girl as she walked past us, "they all are. _I_ would have talked to you had I been lucky enough to be given you as a lab partner."

By some miracle, Coach Clapp, the gym teacher, had found me a uniform but did not make me dress for today's class. Back home in Arizona, only 2 years of PE were needed. Here, it was mandatory all four years. Forks is literally my personal hell on Earth. _Maybe I can get a doctor's note excusing me. Surely, being severely clumsy should count for something_.

I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously from my spot on the bleachers. I chuckled darkly as a girl was hit in the face, flashing back to the many injuries- both sustained and given- from playing volleyball.

At last, the final bell rang. Slowly, so as not to trip on the bleachers, I made my way outside to the main office to return my signed paper. The rain had cleared up, but the wind was stronger and colder than earlier. I wrapped my arms around myself and breathed a sigh of relief when I walked into the warm office, and then I almost turned straight back around and walked back into the cold.

Edward Cullen stood over the front desk, and had not yet seemed to notice my entrance. I took a calming breath and forced myself to stand against the wall near the front door to wait for the receptionist to be free.

He was arguing with her in a low, admittedly attractive voice. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. He was trying to move his 6th period Biology class to another period. "Any other period, I don't care which one."

"I am sorry, Edward. There is just no more space in any of the other classes."

"I can take a different science class then," he urged, keeping eye contact with her and honeying his voice.

 _Give me a freaking break_. I rolled my eyes for what seemed like the 100th time that day. There is no way that this could all be about me. There had to be something else, something that happened before I entered Biology.

The door burst open allowing the freezing wind to burst into the room, ruffling all of the papers on the walls and counter. The girl who came in walked quickly past me, placed the attendance folder into the wired basket beside Edward and walked out.

As the door slammed shut, I looked forward to see that his back had stiffened, and he had turned slowly towards me to glare- his face disgustingly handsome- with hate filled eyes that seemed to strike my soul. In that instant, a strike of fear curled in my stomach and it took all of my strength not to pull out my wand on him. To defend myself against- what exactly, some haughty teenage boy? I shook my head and trained my features into something resembling a glare, letting him know that I will not allow myself to be intimidated. He turned back to the receptionist.

"Never mind, then," he said, voice filling with frustration. "I can see that it is impossible. Thank you so much for your help." He quickly turned on his heel and flashed past me, disappearing out the door.

I tutted and walked over to the desk, handing over the signed slip.

"How was your first day?" the receptionist asked kindly.

I shrugged, giving her a small smile. "Fine." She looked at me dubiously, but smiled back and waved me off.

I sighed in relief when I got into my truck, a refuge from the dark green gloomy outside world. The parking lot was practically deserted at this point, a few stray cars here and there littered the otherwise empty space. The emptiness in the parking lot allowed me a few minutes to just sit in my car and think, meditate the anger away. That is exactly what I did. Closing my eyes, I tried to empty my mind breathing slowly in through my nose and out through my mouth.

Upon feeling my heartbeat slow, I opened my eyes and allowed myself to stare at nothing in particular while I thought through my day.

Positives: I met Angela, Mike, Eric and Jessica. I don't have to rush to catch up on work as I did most of it already, or at least understand it to the point where I am comfortable with the material in most classes- this will leave me with a good amount of free time.

Negatives: Trig, Gym, Edward Cullen.

A chill ran through my body, so I turned the key and the engine roared to life. Slowly, I pulled out of the space and headed to Charlie's house. Overall, the day had been a good one. Well, as good as a first day at a high school could be. I couldn't do much about Trig, or Gym, nor could I change Edward Cullen's behavior towards me, some people were just jerks. I can't change how people act towards me, but, one thing I can do is control my own reactions. And Edward Cullen was not someone I needed to lose control over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Everyone!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the Preface. If you did, Favorite, Alert and/or Leave a Review!
> 
> Keep it classy, make good choices and I hope to see you soon.
> 
> Chandlure


	3. Notice of Hiatus

To my lovely readers,

This has been a difficult year for me and it has caused me to put a stopper on writing- at least for a bit. I am working full time at a 2e school as a special education teacher. I also go to school myself and take classes. Along with that, I have been fighting with depression and just haven’t had any motivation to write. As it stands, I have created outlines for when I am feeling better, but I will not be writing anymore for this story until that point comes.

I apologize for the inconvenience this causes you guys, and I hope to be back writing soon.

Chandlure

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Everyone!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the Preface. If you did: Subscribe, Leave Kudos and/or Leave a Comment!
> 
> Keep it classy, make good choices and I hope to see you soon.
> 
> Happy New Year,
> 
> Chandlure


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